


Gloves

by Rhaeluna



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Clothing Kink, F/F, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Angst, Masturbation, Post-Canon, Scent Kink, Sibling Incest, Sister/Sister Incest, Smut, Voyeurism, caught masturbating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 02:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16399559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhaeluna/pseuds/Rhaeluna
Summary: Anna gets caught hate-fucking Elsa's gloves in the castle attic.





	Gloves

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an informal contest thingy on the elsanna-shenanigans.tumblr.com discord server.

Anna hated Elsa’s old gloves. Each pair was delicate and hand-woven by a craftsman in the village, the same design requested each year without fail by the castle staff. They reminded Anna of each wrong their parents committed in raising them, each betrayal. She and her sister had been cultivated in a den of fear from the moment her sister’s magic first made itself known. Anna would never forget that day: a sea of snow drifting down from the arched ballroom ceiling, crystal white and softer than real snow could never be. It was innocent, free from the cruel taint that inevitably surfaced. 

When she’d found the old things in the attic earlier that day she’d burned with righteous anger. Rows and rows of satin gloves aligned in order like bars in a prison; Anna hadn’t known how to react when Elsa played them off like a joke. The issue dropped when Elsa found the dusty box of Olaf gifts, and Anna didn’t bring it up again. 

The foul things left her mind until she begun preparing for bed. Embalmed in the deepest reaches of night and unable to find sleep, Anna found herself drawn to the dusty attic once more, a scowl on her face. She’d been rolling in the sheets, too warm to pass out and too frustrated to sit still long enough to try. Her mind raced as soon as she’d closed her eyes. How could their parents treat them like that, why was their answer to fear to terrify Elsa of herself? Damn them; damn them both.

Seeing the gloves again ignited something in her. Anna knocked back the trap door into the old, dusty storage space and heaved herself up. She closed the door, and reached for the locks on Elsa’s trunk. The gloves were just as they’d been, spread out in rows and glowing a dark orange in the firelight of her lantern. With a growl, Anna snatched a pair from the box and threw them on the ground, stomping them underfoot. She felt worse, her chest seizing with prickles. Tears prickled in her eyes, unwelcome. Elsa had been chained to them for so long, afraid of her own hands like they might impale someone as soon as her wrists met the chilly air. Anna grabbed another pair, and slung them against the far wall where they hit with a soft smack, and drifted down to the floor.

She watched them fall. Idiot. Anna just wanted to sleep. What did she even hope to accomplish? Go to bed. 

Anna rubbed her eyes. She loved her sister more than anything. The heavens and the stars could face her down on a snowy fjord and Anna would stand strong, her boots in the ice like boulders and hard steel in her eyes. She’d protect Elsa for as long as she lived. 

Anna shut her eyes, took a breath, and rubbed her temples. God, what was she doing? Was it weird to be yelling at gloves in her attic? Probably. She sighed, and reached into the trunk again to remove another pair of the satin shackles. Her movements were methodical, paced. Anna shrugged towards the lantern and sat, leaning her weight against the trunk as she inspected the cloth between her fingers. 

They were just gloves. The sight of them stirred such rage in her, such pitch-dark loathing, but at the end of the day they were but garments, and fine ones at that. Anna felt silly, suddenly, sitting alone in the dark with her sister’s clothes. They’d come so far since then.

The gloves were impeccable, even after a year in storage. Anna stroked the fabric under the pad of her thumb, and beneath the rage, the guilt, the dark, a fondness emerged. They were Elsa’s chains, perhaps, but they were also so much a part of what shaped her. How could Anna truly hate something so central to her sister’s life, and the life they had been able to find together in the present? It was what it was. 

Her thoughts wandered there in the dark attic, and she remembered their stolen glances among the halls during their years apart, the forced isolation followed through even after the passing of their parents. The hopeful looks she’d see on Elsa’s face in the dining room, the longing they’d share in passing. They hadn’t been allowed to talk, but their eyes spoke for them; the gloves had always been there. 

Such loathsome things, but so central to their history. Anna raised the gloves to her nose and inhaled, surprised that they still carried her sister’s distinct scent. She was transported to a field of alpine snow surrounded by pines and evergreens. An open, blue sky welcomed her as her smile turned upwards.

A spark ignited in Anna’s abdomen, a warmth she was all too familiar with. A blush colored her cheeks as she dropped the gloves into her lap with a start. Really, it shouldn’t have surprised her. Elsa’s scent stirred powerful forces within her when all they’d done was occupy the same room, of course her gloves would have the same effect. It was a smell Anna could follow for days like a wolf prowling tundra, the path forward invisible to the eye. 

Anna huffed, and slid down until her lower back had settled upon the floorboards, her head propped against Elsa’s trunk. She bit her lower lip and lifted the gloves again, running her fingers over their surface with hesitant care. The smell reminded her of her sister’s smile, her laugh. The swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips. 

Elsa was too gorgeous by far. Anna grumbled to herself: and it was a little sinful the way she lusted after her own kin. The guilt of it had yet to truly fade, no matter how far they’d come. 

Anna inhaled Elsa’s scent again, and let out a small whine. Her eyelids shut. She rubbed her thighs together, slow and tense, a growl building in the back of her throat. She couldn’t reliever herself in her attic, could she? Of course she could, it was her damn attic! Relenting with a grunt, Anna’s free hand found the crux of her legs as she breathed in the smell of her sister.

Damnable things, she thought as she hiked up her nightgown. Anna hated them with every bit of grit in her heart as her fingers found the source of her want and pressed down. She was wet through the thin fabric of her underwear, swollen, her trembling hand stroking and teasing, chasing her pleasure. Elsa. 

Anna twitched and mewled. She inhaled, a growl escaping her as she bit down on the satin and began to grind it between her teeth. She wanted to hurt the things, force upon them the heavy weight of her sister’s pain. They were soft against her lips, caressing. 

Anna moaned as she rubbed herself, playing at her heat as her slick wet her fingers. Faster, harder. She whined, Elsa’s scent a bloom in her nostrils with each stifled breath. Her toes wriggled and chased the ground to gain purchase. A spasm, an arrow of tingling in her hands, her legs. Stroke, slide, push. Pine needles in the snow, a warm embrace atop a sea of trees. Anna was close. 

She opened her eyes, and her fingers stammered to a halt. A chill ran up her spine like fear before an avalanche.

Elsa sat before her in the dim of the lantern, a wry smile upon her lips, her pajamas rumpled from sleep. Anna’s eyes darted to the trap door, and saw that it was closed. She hadn’t even heard it open. 

“Sorry,” Elsa said, waving her hand in front of her face, “please, don’t stop on my account.” Even in the orange glow Anna could see the black of her sister’s eyes expanding, the blush of heat deep in her neck and cheeks. 

Anna slumped down with a groan, the tension stalled in her body without climax. Her hand fell to the ground, the saliva-coated satin still tight in her palm as she let out a sigh. Her embarrassment boiled to overflowing. “This probably looks weird, doesn’t it?” 

Elsa shrugged, and shifted her weight. “I suppose,” She glanced at the trunk, “I rolled over in bed to snuggle you but you were gone, so I went out looking. I had a hunch you might be up here.”

Anna nodded. Sisters connected. “Lots of old memories.”

Elsa expelled a heavy sigh. Her shoulders held all her weight, tense. “Yes.” She inhaled, and shook her head. A smile broke over her lips. “Anna, if you wanted to sniff me as you touched yourself all you had to do was ask.” 

Anna grimaced, her face bright red, and let the wet gloves drop from her shaking hand. She couldn’t believe she’d been caught moping and masturbating. “Wouldn’t that be weird?”

Elsa laughed, and scooted closer to her sister. “Sweetie, we’re married.” 

“So?”

“So you can talk to me about your bedroom interests.” Elsa cocked her head and raised an eyebrow at her, “after you indulged my ice tentacles experiment I’m hardly one to judge.” 

It had been quite the spectacle, with Elsa apologizing a dozen times before she’d even been able to say what she had in mind before descending into a stammering, blushing mess. Anna couldn’t help but smile. “Still.”

Elsa placed a hand on her sister’s knee, the touch of her as warm as a fireplace yet cool as a mountaintop just the same. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Anna sighed, and reached over to stroke the knuckles of her wife’s extended hand. “I couldn’t stop thinking about your gloves. I kinda hate them, you know?” She let out a hesitant chuckle, “they’re everything I despise about our history. I came up here to, well,” she pinked, “stew, I guess, but then I just sorta got drawn in by your scent. Again.” Anna rolled her eyes.

Elsa nodded, and squeezed Anna’s knee. She crawled up next to her sister’s side. Her lips found Anna’s cheek as she draped a free arm over her and pulled her tight. “It’s beautiful that you find me so irresistible.”

Anna snickered. “Wow, you definitely wouldn’t have said that a year ago.”

“True enough.” She ruffled Anna’s hair. “And it’s okay, the gloves up here now where they can’t hurt anyone. We’re together. It’s done.”

Anna giggled. “Are you sure? They might team up with my old dragon costume and burn down the village.” 

“What are they gonna do?” Elsa puffed up her chest and put on a face. “I’m the Queen!”

Anna beamed, her chest light. “You are.” She leaned up to meet her sister’s lips with her own. 

Elsa kissed her back, drawing her closer and stroking her neck. Anna felt at home. A quiet settled, and Elsa released her to peck her all over her face, her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. 

“Hey!” Anna giggled as she snuggled against her sister. 

“I love you, Anna.” The joking was gone. It was all genuine, all Elsa. 

Anna pinked despite herself, and kissed her wife’s nose with a snort. “Dork. I love you too.” The weight had lifted from her heart, and she felt whole again, gloves or no gloves.

Elsa hummed. Her fingers grazed Anna’s jugular as a wicked smirk appeared upon her visage. “You know,” she said, a child running through Anna’s blood, “if these gloves hold so many bad memories, why don’t we make new memories with them?”

Anna blinked. “Oh?” She hadn’t expected that the gloves would bother her anymore after voicing her anxiety of them, but her sister made a good point. Why not?

Elsa purred, her lips ghosting Anna’s ear. “Would you like to give them new meaning with me? I could wear them again, and help you pick up from where you left off.” 

Anna’s brain shorted. She swallowed, and before she could stop herself her thighs were shuddering. Damn lizard brain. An image appeared in her mind’s eye: Elsa standing in the moonlight, her hair down and utterly naked except for the gloves on her hands. “A-Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want to.” Elsa’s fingers moved down her throat to her clavicle, her sternum, until her palm cupped the weight of one of Anna’s breasts and squeezed. Heat blossomed within Anna’s insides. She gasped. Elsa’s smell surrounded her, the source of it whispering sweet nothings into her ear. She drank it like alcohol. “Do you?”

“Yes, please!” She tried her best to sound composed, but she really wasn’t. Her voice cracked, and she groaned as Elsa giggled at her for it. 

“Okay. Hold on.” With a quick kiss to her cheek, Elsa released Anna and reached behind them into the large trunk. She shuffled around for a moment, grimaced, then withdrew a fresh pair of gloves. With a teasing wink, Elsa tugged them onto her hands and flexed her fingers, small puffs of snow popping from the tips.

God, they looked good on her. They always had, even if Anna hated them. She swallowed. Her eyes found her sisters and she parted her legs a few inches on instinct. Elsa took her mouth hard, pulling her close and sucking at her bottom lip. Gloved hands found Anna’s thighs and tugged them further apart. She gasped against her wife’s mouth, love and adoration swelling in her abdomen. She smelled like frost, like the sea in winter, like a fireplace and warm drinks. 

Anna squirmed as her sister released her mouth, “Elsa, please.” Her mind flashed white; Elsa’s gloved hands found Anna’s heat beneath her nightgown and began to pleasure her with slow, firm strokes through her underwear.

She tugged Anna’s panties out of the way and the slick of her stained the satin of Elsa’s gloves. The satisfaction that filled Anna as she watched her sister’s old gloves glisten tugged her towards climax. The fabric soaked through to Elsa’s skin, the pristine shape of them destroyed. Anna purred. 

Elsa kneaded her, stroked her; her touch was familiar like no other’s could ever be. She sped up, grunting. Anna wrapped her arms around Elsa’s shoulders as her sister fucked her with her hand. Her wet dribbled down to her wrist. She lifted her hips from the floor and Elsa chuckled against her ear. “You’re beautiful. I love you so much. I’m blessed to have you in my life like this.”

Anna moaned as Elsa pumped her harder, her strokes growing unsteady. She ground against her sister’s hand, rubbing the length of herself against her and shuddering as Elsa’s fingers pressed in. The satin gloves glided over her like water. Elsa was so warm. So delightfully, impossibly warm. Her sister the snow queen, hot like a furnace. Anna was going to burst. Her core burned. Her abdominals cried out from the position she held herself in. 

“Are you going to come?”

“Yes I am, oh fuck,” Anna bit her bottom lip as she whined.

“Okay,” Elsa kissed her neck, her ear, drew her tongue over Anna’s lips, “come for me, sweetie.” 

It was all she needed. Elsa’s scent intoxicated her, filling her veins with visions of snow like electricity. Anna clenched down, and let herself tumble over. Her teeth snapped tight. Tremors spilled down her spine from the base of her neck, waves radiating out and bouncing off her extremities back to her center as she came. Anna clung to her sister, shaking, and found her lips. She loved her so much.

Anna flew, and danced among the clouds. A breath. Another, and finally Anna was able to catch herself as she descended. She slumped against her sister, her legs gooey with sex and feeling. Elsa gazed down at her, her smile filling Anna’s heart with bright, star-colored butterflies. “Was it good?”

Anna snickered, and lifted a hand in a shaky thumbs-up. Elsa kissed her. With a jerk, she withdrew her gloved hand from between Anna’s legs and shook it out. Droplets splashed onto the floor, and Anna went pink. “I liked the gloves,” she said, “they’re really sexy once you get over the trauma part.”

Elsa nodded. “I think so too. Shall we hold onto the rest for future use?” The Queen glanced at the trunk behind them, mischief in her eyes. 

“Definitely. Besides,” Anna looked bashful, “I think destroying them gets me off.”

Elsa blinked, her cheeks bright red. “Hot.” 

The sisters shared a laugh and several kisses in the dim light of the castle attic, the sound of their joy ringing out into the distant night. Elsa caressed her wife’s cheek, and Anna leaned into her hand with a contented sigh.


End file.
